Enter the Cajun
by Eileen
Summary: Sequel to What About Todd. While still on vacation, the XMen meet a new mutant, but can they trust him? Finally finished at long last! Whew!
1. After The Thief

ENTER THE CAJUN

**ENTER THE CAJUN**

(Disclaimer: characters belong to Marvel, Kids WB, etc.)

(A/N: this is the sequel to What About Todd, and picks up at the end of that story. It's kind of set in the middle of my other story Mindshadow; I didn't plan it that way, it just kind of happened.)

"Stop that kid! He's got my wallet!" Scott Summers shouted. 

The small group chased the boy in the sunglasses and long brown coat down the sidewalk, towards the pier. He weaved in and out of the crowd, trying to evade them, but that coat of his—what was he doing wearing a heavy coat in June anyway?—was easy to spot among the light-colored clothes of the tourists.

"Why don't you just blast him?" Evan Daniels asked Scott.

"Too many people in the way!"

"I've got a fix on him," Brenda said. Her power to telepathically locate anyone sure came in handy sometimes. "He's heading for the arcade! We need to cut him off before then!"

"How?"

"Leave it to me," Logan growled. He moved through the crowd until he was only a few yards away from the boy.

The young thief looked back at that moment and saw him. He then tossed something over his shoulder, which exploded in midair.

"Get down!" Scott instructed the others. They flattened themselves onto the pavement. A second later, the object fluttered to the ground.

Brenda picked it up carefully.

"What is it?" asked Scott.

"The ace of clubs," she said, looking at it intently.

She probed into the boy's mind to find out how he'd done it, and got the shock of her life.

"He's one of us!"

"One of us? You mean a mutant?"

"Bingo," Rogue said. "We need to get him out of the open, and somewhere we can talk to him. There's too many people here . . . one of Magneto's little bully-boys might be lurking around."

"I thought they left already," Kitty said.

"They might have come back."

"I got this guy." Evan sprang into action, pursuing the kid like an ant after a picnic basket. His quarry had gained some ground, but not much, and Evan caught up with him and tackled him to the ground.

The kid was swearing in French a mile a minute by the time the others caught up. "What do you think you're doing?" he gasped.

"We don't want to hurt you—"

"You already have!"

"Listen to me! We are like you. You have . . . something special. Well, all of us do too." Jean saw an interested spark in his eyes and continued. "We can help you understand what's happened, but you have to trust us."

"Trust you?" He stood up, once Evan had released him, and brushed dirt off his coat. "Why should I?"

Brenda decided to use one of the pieces of information she had picked up out of his mind. "Because we're not like that guy you met in Delaware. We would never hurt you like that."

The boy looked at her, blinked a couple of times, then his mouth opened and closed. Finally he said, "How did you know about that?"

"My gift is being able to read your thoughts. I know you've met a lot of people on the road who wanted to use you, hurt you, or both. We're not like that. We really do want to help you. Please give us a chance."

After what seemed like an eternity, the boy finally answered. "Okay."

"How could we be lost?"

"Beats me. You had the map."

"Me? I thought **you** had it!"

"That's it! I'm stopping the car!" Lance hit the brakes and pulled off the road (if you could call it a road; it was more like a cow path with two grooves in it). "Get out and walk!"

"What, all the way back to--?"

"I'm not listening to you fight any more. Either shut up, or walk home."

The trilling of a cell phone interrupted them. "Okay, who's got the phone?" Lance asked.

"You do," said Pietro.

"Oh." He found it in his left-hand pocket and answered it. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" It was Mystique.

"Uh . . . somewhere in Vermont, I think."

"Well, you need to go back to New Hampshire. A new mutant just surfaced in the town you just left."

"What? But we've been driving for three hours—"

"This mutant," Mystique said, in her don't-argue voice, "is very important to certain people. If you don't get to him before Xavier's people do, don't bother coming home." She hung up noisily in his ear.

"Great," Lance sighed. "Get back in the car. We have to go all the way back to stupid New Hampshire and get some stupid new mutant."

"How we supposed to do that if we're lost?" Fred asked.

"All we have to do," Pietro said, "is go back the way we came till we hit I-93. It's back there somewhere."

"Can we go on the boat again?" Todd asked.

The others all looked at him. Ever since they'd left New Hampshire, he'd been going on and on about the boat ride on the lake. (Leaving out, of course, the fact that he'd been strapped to the mast to keep him from falling overboard.) 

"Yeah, sure, we'll go on the boat," Lance said. To the others he whispered, "We can ditch him somewhere, right?"


	2. Let's Do Lunch

**ENTER THE CAJUN (part 2)**

They went to lunch at a fish restaurant not far from the pier. It was nice, but not too nice. The kind of place that has fishing nets hanging on the walls, and paper placemats with "Fish Facts" all over them. A touristy kind of place. Kitty rolled her eyes and declared the nautical decor tacky, but most of the others thought it was cute.

The boy in the brown coat (he refused to take it off) looked around and said, "Is this for real?" He seemed to be disoriented, and Jean wondered if he might be on drugs.

"This is totally, like, the bad taste capital of the world!" Kitty declared.

"It's not bad," Scott said. "If you don't mind a place that looks like the set of Spongebob Squarepants."

The hostess sat them down at a booth, and gave them rope-motif menus. "Terrific. Something to hang myself with," Evan said.

"All right, enough!" said Logan. "Let's just concentrate on what we want to eat."

The newcomer was famished, but he wasn't sure he could afford anything in this place. Twelve dollars for an entree? That was more than a night in that motel he was calling home for the next few weeks.

"You know what you want?" Kitty asked, as he slid in next to her.

"I don't know. I can have half of someone else's."

"Yeah, they're, like, big enough! Restaurants have, like, no concept of the word 'small'."

Rogue watched the two of them, wondering why she was so interested in this guy. What was so great about him, other than that he was a mutant? Or that he had great hair, and looked good in leather, and that accent . . .

_What am I doing?_ She asked herself. _Even if this guy wasn't a petty thief and maybe a delinquent, I can't get close to anyone! We could never have any kind of a life together . . ._

He noticed her staring and smiled at her. It made Rogue feel weak inside.

"Come over and join us," he said.

"I can't," she said, shaking her head. 

"You afraid of me?"

"No . . ." She looked around. She was in the middle on the other side of the table, between Kurt on one side and Jean on the other. She was at least two people away from the aisle. "I'm blocked in."

"Here, let me move over so you can get out," Jean said, sliding out. Relieved to be free, Rogue stretched her legs before moving to another seat next to the newcomer. She didn't even know his name yet, but she found him interesting. Getting to know him better would be fun.

"So, what did you say your name was?" Storm asked him.

"I didn't," he said with an impish grin. "It's Remy."

"Where are you from, originally?"

"New Orleans."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Long way from home, kid. What brings you this far north?"

"I'm going farther. I just stopped here to raise a little cash before moving on to Old Orchard Beach, and then from there . . . Canada."

"What's in Canada?" Jean asked.

Remy lowered his voice. "I met a man who said there was a man up in Canada who could help me with, you know, how I am. When my Daddy died, I said, what have I got to lose? So I packed up and I went."

"Wow," Rogue said. "You didn't have any other family?"

"Not that mattered. Not like this matters." He shifted in his seat, and she felt his thigh pressing against hers. She also felt her heart skip a beat every time his hand brushed hers.

Eventually, the waitress came, and asked if they were ready to order.

"Yeah," Scott said. "Two fried clam specials with French fries, two fish and chips, one seafood platter . . ."

It took at least as long for the food to come as it had taken for them to be served. "Remind me never to eat **here **again," Jean muttered.

"It's the tourist season," Evan pointed out. "It's a Saturday, and they've only got two waitresses on. I hope this place is better staffed at night."

"You said it, bro," Scott said. "I think we'll stick to McDonald's the rest of our vacation."

Remy and Rogue didn't hear a word he said; they were too busy giving each other deep, meaningful looks. "Ach, do ve have to get you two a room?" Kurt complained.

No response.

"Hel-LO!" Kitty waved a hand in front of Rogue's eyes. "Like, Earth to Rogue!"

"Huh?"

"Are you with us?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, whatever." Rogue reluctantly tore her gaze from Remy just long enought to eat one of her fries.

Kurt rolled his eyes at the way Rogue and the new kid were carrying on. "Ach, it's like zhey vant to rip each other's clothes off right here!"

"Uh, I'm trying to eat here!" Kitty told Remy. "Would you mind toning it down to, like, PG-13?"

"Oops." The Cajun blushed and dropped his eyes from Rogue's.

Through all this, Brenda had said nothing. Secretly, however, she had been monitoring the new boy's thoughts for an hour or so, and she had noticed that though he held strong feelings for Rogue, he didn't quite trust her—or in fact any of them. He was planning to leave as soon as he could.

What could she say to change his mind? What words could possibly dissuade him from his course of action? Could anyone get him to see their point of view? She didn't know if the person existed who could get through to him.

Or did she?

Rogue found herself thinking about living with Remy in the same house. It might be a little awkward at first, but with time he could learn to fit in with the rest of them. After all, she had, eventually.

"Uh, Remy?"

"What?"

"I was wonderin' . . ." She wasn't quite sure how to continue. "I was wonderin' if you wanted to come with us back to Bayville, and live at our school. It's a lot closer than Canada, and you'd get the help you need . . ."

Remy pondered her words. He'd never been a team player before, and he wasn't sure if he trusted these people. In the end, Storm made him a deal: if he would stay with them until the end of their vacation, they would let him make his decision then, whatever he chose.

That didn't sound too bad. At least he'd know where he was sleeping for the next few days.

"Okay," he said.


	3. Conversations

**ENTER THE CAJUN (part 3)**

The room assignments had to be shifted slightly to accomodate the new arrival. Kurt and Scott were forced to double up with Evan in order to free up a bed for Remy. Kitty and Rogue cleared out one of their bureau drawers for his few clothes.

Logan explained the rules, and Remy nodded in all the right places. They'd probably keep a close eye on him for the first few days, at least. As long as they didn't call the cops on him, he was okay with that.

Rogue was happy that he would be staying with her a while; Kitty just hoped he would't leave a mess like the other guys did.

"Don't you have a swimsuit?" she asked him.

"No. I never needed one. Too busy running from everyone to go to the beach. Heck, I didn't even have time for a shower half the time."

Kurt sniffed. "Ve can zee zhat."

Rogue swatted him right across the behind. "You be nahce," she chided him.

"Vhat?"

"We'll take you clothes shopping later on," said Kitty. "Uh . . . feel free to use the shower. In fact, I insist you go first."

Remy felt a bit insulted, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Before long, he would come to revel in the female attention he was getting, but for now it was all still new to him. "Thanks."

Kurt and Evan exchanged looks of disbelief. "Is he for real?"

"Can't be," Kurt said.

The two of them were practicing shooting baskets, tossing a Nerf ball into the small hoop above the kitchen doorway. Kitty ducked as the ball came whizzing at her head. "Don't you guys have anything better to do than throw things back and forth?"

"Don't **you **have anything better to do than complain?" Kurt countered.

Kitty sighed and headed upstairs. "Boys," she grumbled.

Remy met Xavier for the first time when the Professor came up Sunday afternoon. Xavier had been checking into the boy's background, and what he found was fascinating. He couldn't wait to meet this newcomer for himself.

Remy hesitated as he entered the large bedroom. He wasn't sure what to expect—the other kids talked about Xavier like he was a god, almost. Maybe he should have stuck with the man in Canada.

But as he crossed the threshold, he felt calm washing over him like a wave. There was nothing to fear here. He didn't know that Xavier was using his telepathic powers to reassure the boy, but if he had, it wouldn't have mattered. Here, at last, he would find some answers.

"Hello, Remy." The man in the wheelchair extended a hand. "I'm Charles Xavier. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"Remy LeBeau, sir."

"How long have you known you were a mutant?"

"About two or three months, sir. I met a man who told me there was a man in Canada who could help me. I hitchhiked up this way for Biker's Week, and I was just about to take off for Old Orchard Beach when—" All of a sudden, he sneezed. "'Scuse me. It's the weather up here, I think. Anyway, your friends asked me to give them a week and I—" He sneezed again, and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Xavier winced but said nothing, handing the boy his handkerchief. "Thanks. I decided it was worth a shot. I've come this far, I can't give up now."

"A good way to approach life," Xavier said. "How are you feeling?"

"Kinda funny. I'm not used to being in this kind of house—it's so big and roomy . . ."

Xavier sipped his tea. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean, do you feel well physically? You  seem to be a bit under the weather at the moment."

Remy considered this. His head felt fuzzy and he had some kind of sinus problem that was making his eyes water and his nose run like a faucet. "I'm okay," he said.

"Perhaps you should take a short rest. You're probably run-down—I'll bet that lunch you had yesterday was the first decent meal you'd had in days."

"You win, Professor," Remy said, turning his face away. He was ashamed to admit he'd been stealing from tourists, even if he'd had no choice. "Down South it was okay. I did a lot of odd jobs. But it was tougher once I got across the Mason-Dixon line . . . and then in Delaware . . ."

He hadn't spoken about the incident to anyone since it had happened, four months ago, but now the whole thing was spilling from his lips, even as the tears spilled from his eyes. Xavier listened silently to the whole story, which took almost an hour.

When he was done, Remy asked, "So what do I do now?"

"Well," said Xavier, "I have some contacts in the Wilmington police department. I'll call them tomorrow morning and tell them what you told me. We can't change the past, but maybe we can stop this man from hurting anyone else."

Remy sat up and wiped the tears from his face. "Look at me, crying like a baby. Ain't done that since my Daddy died."

"Sometimes you need to cry," Xavier said. "Do you need help upstairs?"

"Nah, I can make it," the boy said. Then he came out and saw the stairs. "On second thought, the couch here looks good." He stretched out on the couch and drifted off to sleep. By the time he woke up, six hours later, everyone else was going to bed.

Remy sat out on the porch for a while, then went back to the couch and slept till just after dawn.

"Are we still in Vermont?"

It was dark now, and hard to see. They had to read the map by flashlight, which wasn't really working out.

"Nah," Pietro said, squinting in the glare. "We're about 30 miles west of Laconia."

"We'll be there soon, then," Lance said.

The other three boys groaned. "Can't we stop someplace?" Toad whined.

"Like a McDonald's?" Fred added.

"McDonald's ain't open this late!"

"A 24-hour mini-mart, then?"

"Shut up!" Lance shouted. "We'll stop when we get to Laconia, all right?"

"Can we go on the water slides?" Toad asked.

Lance ignored him and threw the Jeep into gear.

"Is that a no, then?"

"Have you found him yet?" Mystique demanded, when she called them an hour later.

"He **was **here," Lance told her. "The motel manager said he checked in three days ago. Never checked out. No sign of him yet. We're keeping the place staked out."

Behind him, Toad, Fred, and Pietro were arguing about who was taking first watch. Lance shushed them and hoped Mystique hadn't heard.

"If he doesn't show up by tomorrow," she was saying, "I want you to go up to the X-Men's cabin. If they beat us to him—"

"Don't worry, Boss Lady. We got it covered."

Mystique grunted something, and hung up.

"What'd she say?" Toad asked.

Lance didn't want to tell him. He'd just start in on the whole boat thing again, and they'd had more than enough of that already. "Just keep an eye out. He's gotta come back sometime. Who's on watch?"

"You are," the three boys chorused.

"Great," he muttered. "Some road trip."


	4. Under the Weather

**ENTER THE CAJUN (part 4)**

Remy woke up early the next morning, when the fishing troupe tried to sneak by him.

"Sorry, man," Scott said. "Want to come fishing with us?"

Remy groggily lifted his head and looked at the small group. If Rogue had been with them, he might have gone, but she was still in bed. Besides, he had a headache that ran all the way down to his kneecaps, and he was pretty sure he didn't want to get up any time soon. He thought he might even stay where he was the rest of the day. He lay back down and closed his eyes again.

It seemed like only seconds later that he heard, "C'mon, sugar, we're goin' down to the lake before it gets too hot. I'll race you out to the raft . . ."

Remy rolled over and looked her in the eye. "Can I take a rain check on that?"

"Still sleepy?" She knelt down beside him and ruffled his hair with one gloved hand. "You've been sleeping since yesterday afternoon! Ya can't be that tired!"

"Wanna bet?" He'd never felt this bad before—well, okay, once when he snuck some of his daddy's beer at a party. And the time he'd had a headache that he'd sworn could kill an elephant. Oh, yeah, and that other time he was flat on his back for three days with the flu. Other than those instances, he'd never been in this much agony.

Rogue noticed Remy seemed paler than usual, and heard him snuffling. "Can I help ya, sugar? You need anything?"

"Some aspirin, maybe an ice pack . . ." Remy managed to say before his voice gave out on him.

Rogue went to the medicine chest to see if she could find anything to help Remy. There was a small white bottle on the bottom shelf. Squinting at the label, she saw the words "pain reliever" and scooped it up. But would it be good enough?

"Oh, man," she sighed. "Ah hope this works."

She filled a glass with water from the kitchen sink and brought it over to Remy. "Here, sugar, you just take this and relax. Let me know if ya need anything else."

Remy opened his eyes, then lifted his head slightly to be able to swallow. The lack of resistance worried Rogue. He must be really sick . . . She wondered if any of the adults were up yet.

Then she heard Jean calling from the porch. "You coming, Rogue?"

"Uh . . . ya might want to get the Professor. I think Remy's really sick—"

"What?"

"He's got a real bad headache. Can't move at all."

"That doesn't sound good," Jean said, and went to contact Professor Xavier.

In his room, Xavier was awake and "listening" to Jean's conversation. "Let me take a look at Remy myself," he said. A few minutes later, he wheeled himself into the living room to see what he could do for the boy.

He was in bad shape, all right, from the look of him. He reminded Xavier of a photo he'd once seen of a germ warfare test victim, after exposure to a particularly lethal contaminant. The victim had died hours later.

"Have you taken anything yet?" Xavier asked the boy.

"Yeah. Rogue gave me some pills. Haven't kicked in yet . . ." Remy shifted his position on the uncomfortable leather couch, and then pulled the blanket over him. "I feel cold all over."

Xavier nudged the thermostat up a bit, but it didn't seem to help. He could sense the boy's thoughts, confused and delirious. He seemed quite feverish as well.

It could be nothing . . .

Then again, could he afford to take any chances?

He called a doctor who he knew could be trusted, and arranged for him to come by and take a look at Remy. Then, because he had made a promise, he called Captain Wallace in Delaware and gave him the details of Remy's confession. Hopefully, this pedophile would be stopped before he did any further damage.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"This the place?" Fred asked.

"Uh huh."

"Want me to ring the doorbell?"

"Uh . . . maybe we better handle it."

The Brotherhood had come back to the vacation cabin, after a long night of waiting for someone who never showed up. They decided to confront the X-Men and find out what they knew. If they didn't like it, they were going to have to answer to Mystique and the Brotherhood—and, ultimately, Magneto.

They were about to try the front door when they heard Kurt Wagner open the back door. Then they heard Rogue's voice: "How's Remy?"

"Remy?" Lance whispered. "That's the kid we were sent here to get!"

"Whoa!" Toad exclaimed. "What are we waiting for? Let's go get him now!"

"Will you shut up? We don't want them to hear us! Pietro, find out where the other X-Jerks are—"

"Got it!" Pietro raced around the cottage, then inside . . .

. . . where he found himself face-to-face with the X-Men, who didn't look happy to see him.

"What are **you **doing here?" Scott demanded. "I thought we got rid of you two days ago!"

"Well, we're back!" Pietro said. "We came for your new little friend. Where is he?"

"You think we're just gonna tell you?" Rogue snapped.

"Ooh, Roguey's mad!" Toad snickered, earning an elbow in the ribs from Lance. "Ow!"

"You guys wanna take a hint and leave now?" Scott said. "We've already kicked you out once before—next time we won't be so nice about it, trust me."

"Yeah, right!" Lance said. "Just bring out Remy LeBeau and everything is cool."

Evan gave Lance the dirtiest of dirty looks. "We're not helping you, not after you broke in here!"

"You wanna see breaking, Daniels? I'll show you—" Pietro started off in search of something fragile, but he stopped dead in his tracks and clutched at his head. "Ow! OW!"

"And that was a low-level blast," Brenda said. "I'll crank up the volume if you don't leave quietly."

The Brotherhood retreated to safer ground, except for Toad, who stood where he was. He looked at Brenda, impressed by her growing abilities. "Wow, Brenda, you been practicin'?"

"I have, actually," she said. "Why aren't you halfway down the road with your friends?"

"I wanted to see you again," Todd said, his eyes glazing over dreamily.

Brenda didn't know how to answer that. She was torn between wanting him to stay and wanting him to disappear into thin air right now. She opened her mouth to say something—

--but before she could, she heard harsh coughing from somewhere behind her. She turned to see who it was, and saw Remy lying on the couch, looking miserable. "Shouldn't you be upstairs?"

"Couldn't make it up those stairs." He tried to lift his head, but it felt like it weighed a ton and a half.

"How are you feeling?"

"Not so good." He coughed again.

"That doesn't sound good at all." She felt his forehead and was surprised at how warm he felt. "How long have you felt like this?"

"Since last night. It's gotten worse by the minute since I woke up," Remy said between coughs.

Todd was keeping his distance; germs weren't his favorite things. He really wanted to stay with Brenda, though, but sooner or later the others would notice him missing and come back. Again. So he quietly slipped out the back door while she was busy looking at Remy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Todd got back to the motel, everyone looked at him as if he'd been gone for days.

"Where've you **been**?" Lance demanded. "Mystique is **not** happy! She's on her way here right now, and you **know **how she gets when she isn't happy!"

"And we didn't get any food, either," Fred grumbled. "Where's Room Service in this crummy joint?"

"That's only in hotels, Freddy," Pietro said.

"Isn't this a hotel?"

While Pietro explained the difference between hotel and motel, Toad waited outside for Mystique. He wanted to have a chance to explain to her about his involvement with Brenda and his reason for coming, and everything else—

"Hey, Toady," Fred interrupted, "you wanna go down to the snack machine and bust it open?"

"Huh? What?"

"I said, do you want to . . . ah, never mind." Fred lumbered off to help himself to some candy and bottled water free of charge. As for Toad, he couldn't think of anything to do or say at that moment. All he could think about was seeing Brenda again, somehow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The doctor arrived at the cabin less than an hour after the Brotherhood had left. By then Remy had been moved into the big bedroom on the first floor, so that Professor Xavier could more easily look after him until professional help arrived. Xavier knew the doctor well from his days researching the X gene at Oxford University. Though currently lecturing at Bayville State University, Dr. Bryce was willing to make the long drive to New Hampshire to help an old friend.

Xavier met him at the door. "Thank you for coming, Albert."

"Any time, Charles. I'm always happy to help your students."

"Well, he's not a student yet," Xavier told him as they went into the bedroom, "but I have high hopes for him."

"Ah can hear ya, ya know," Remy said from only a few feet away. It was a very small room.

"So you can." The doctor stepped over to his bedside. "I'm Dr. Bryce, and you are ?"

"Remy LeBeau." He coughed and then reached for a tissue. "Sorry."

"I'll leave you two alone," Xavier said, pushing the door closed.

"Now then," Bryce said, unpacking his black bag, "Charles tells me you're not feeling well. What exactly seems to be the problem?"

"Mah head hurts somethin' awful, and I'm so tired Ah can't even stand up right. And I keep coughing, too."

"Hmm. How long has this been going on?"

"Since yesterday. It's worse today, though."

"All right. I'm going to need to examine you. Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit."

"That's what **he** said."

"Who?"

"Man Ah met in Delaware. 'This won't hurt ya, darlin',' he said, and then he—"

The boy broke off, looking uncomfortable. Bryce wasn't trained in psychology, but he knew when someone was hiding something.

"It's okay," he said. "You don't have to talk about it. We'll talk about something else. You're a Southern boy?"

"New Orleans."

"My wife's family are from there. Do you have any family?"

"Not livin'."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What brings you up North?"

While they talked, Bryce checked Remy's pulse, blood pressure, and temperature. He listened to his chest, and looked down his throat.

"It'f kinna ha'd to talk wid a fermometer in mah mouf," the boy protested.

"Sorry, I forget sometimes." Bryce eased up on the conversation till the thermometer beeped.

"Well?" Remy said. "Am Ah gonna die?"

"Of course you are. Everyone dies eventually." Bryce chuckled, then realized that Remy didn't get the joke. "Never mind. What you have is a rather nasty case of the flu. As long as you get plenty of rest and drink a lot of fluids, you'll be fine in a few days. Possibly as long as a week . . . but you're certainly in no danger of dying."

"That supposed to be good news or bad news?" Remy didn't look reassured.

"That's up to you," Burke said. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to talk to Charles."

Almost as soon as he had left the room, Rogue came rushing in. "What did he say?"

"It's all raht, _chere, _it's just de flu. Remy be fine in a couple days."

She smiled. "Your accent gets thickah when you're tired, sugah, ya evah noticed that?"

"Wha' bout yours?"

"What 'bout it?"

"You evah listen to it? Sounds lahk somethin' outta 'Gone Wid De Wind', 'specially when yo' mad."

Rogue blushed beneath her pale makeup. "You charmer, you."

"_Non_, it's true. I love your voice, Roguey—it's lahk honey." Remy reached up to touch her face, but she pulled away. "What's wrong?"

"It's not you," she said, "it's me. Ah don't want ta hurt ya."

"I can take it."

"Not in yoah condition, ya can't. Maybe when yer feelin' better . . ."

"Hi guys!" Kitty had poked her head through the door—literally—at the worst possible moment.

"**Kitty!"**

"What? Am I, like, interrupting something?"

"Why don't ya ever knock?"

"Sor-ry! Like, excuse **me **for caring!" Kitty withdrew, leaving Remy and Rogue alone again.

There was a long silence.

"Uh . . . ya want anythin'? I could make ya some soup, Ah guess."

"Got any animal crackers? Ah used ta love animal crackers."

"Ah'll check. Don't go anywhere."

"That a joke, _chere_?"

"Yeah, does it shock ya that Ah have a sense a' humor?"

Remy just smiled at her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

An hour later, Scott came in to check on Remy and found him asleep, Rogue lying beside him on top of the sheets. "Oh-kay," he said, "now I've seen everything." He went to close the door as quietly as possible.

He needn't have bothered. Only moments later, there was a thump and then a huge explosion that blew the front door wide open.

"Well, there goes our security deposit," Logan growled.

Mystique led the Brotherhood inside while the X-Men looked on. "We want Remy LeBeau," she said. "Hand him over at once, or we'll have to get rough."


	5. People Change

ENTER THE CAJUN (part 5)

**ENTER THE CAJUN (part 5)**

(A/N: Done at long last! Sorry for the delay. I promise I'll get everything finished before I die.)

"Well?" Mystique demanded. "What are you waiting for? Bring out Remy LeBeau and we'll leave quietly. Resist . . . and you'll lose more than your security deposit."

Mystique got her answer quickly . . . but it wasn't the one she was expecting. Cyclops rallied the X-Men. "Okay, we've practiced this. Don't bother getting into uniform, just keep them back!"

Blob decided to go for the weakest member of the team—or at least, what he **thought** was the weakest member. "I'm gonna squash you!" he shouted, charging at Shadowcat. What he didn't know was that she'd been taking extra martial-arts training lately, and she kicked out as he passed, sweeping his legs out from under him and knocking him to the floor.

"OW!"

"Hey! You boys wanna play, let's play outside!" Logan called from the front doorstep. "Plenty of room out here!"

"Fine by me!" Avalanche started a tremor that collapsed the porch with a crunch.

"HEY!" came a shout from behind them. As one, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned around.

"Will all of ya shut up? People are tryin' ta sleep! Sick people, who need the rest!"

"You don't look that sick to me!" said Quicksilver.

"Not me, Remy! He's not goin' anywhere till he gets better, and he ain't gonna get better unless he gets some **sleep**!"

"Who c'n sleep wit' dis goin' on?" Remy emerged from the bedroom, leaning on the door frame. "Remy fight his own battles, _chere_."

"You're not fightin' anything, you're goin' back to bed," Rogue insisted, trying to steer him back through the door, but he stood his ground.

"_Non_! Ah c'n take care o' mahself!" He took two unsteady steps, then stopped and clutched his head. "Why's de room spinnin' aroun'?"

Mystique couldn't believe everyone was just **standing** there. "What is the matter with all of you? Grab him!"

"But . . ." Toad said. "It ain't fair to hit a guy who's too weak to fight back, yo."

"Who said we fight fair?"

Rogue, who was holding Remy up at this point, glared at the woman. "You want him," she said, "you'll have to come through me first!"

"Is that a challenge?" Mystique said, careful to keep out of Rogue's reach.

"Hey! That's my line!" Quicksilver rushed around and ended up in between Mystique and Rogue. In the process, he inadvertently tripped Mystique, who fell sprawling and knocked a picture off the wall, which fell and shattered. Rogue took advantage of the distraction to take off her gloves and plant her fingertips on Mystique's face, thus knocking her out cold.

"Uh oh," said Toad. "We're in trouble now."

Cyclops fired off a short burst of energy at Blob, who ducked. The blast hit the wall, leaving a big scorch mark. Blob charged, but missed Cyclops and took out a large section of the opposite wall.

Wolverine punched Blob in the face, but it barely rocked him and he returned punch for punch, knocking the older man through a window and destroying a fan in the process.

"That's it! This ends now!" An infuriated Avalanche raised his foot and started to kick out at Cyclops, but missed and collapsed the hall table.

"Jean!" Cyclops called over his shoulder, while fending off the seismic mutant, "get Remy back into bed and make sure he doesn't get up again!"

"Right!"

"I'm okay . . ." Remy protested weakly as Jean led him back into the bedroom.

Avalanche stumbled to his feet and prepared for Round 2, but before he could move more than an inch in any direction, Shadowcat phased through him and out the other side, where she hit him hard and low. He crumpled like a wet paper towel.

"No fair," Lance groaned, clutching his solar plexus and slumping to the ground in agony.

Toad took this opportunity to scuttle away before he got pounded to mush. Blob saw him and said, "Where do you think **you're **goin'?"

"Anywhere I won't be squashed, blown up, or fried by Cyclops' laser eyes! This ain't **my **fight!" With that, Toad disappeared off down the road. Blob promised himself he'd squash him later, once they were back at the motel.

Wolverine kept a close eye on Avalanche, whose head now felt like it would explode any second. He'd been overusing his powers again and it was coming back to bite him in the butt now. He couldn't even get up to sock Wolverine in the jaw like he deserved.

Xavier came out at that moment and focused his mental energies on ending the fight. It wasn't easy to change several minds at once, but he'd had a lot of practice working with confrontational people. (Ex-wives, for instance.) He was surprised at the amount of resistance Lance's mind put up, and he focused his energies on breaking through the block.

"Back off!" Lance snapped, as he felt a weird crawling sensation in his brain.

"All right," Xavier said. "Would you like me to come out so we can talk face to face?"

"I've got nothing to say to you! Just let me go!"

"No one's holding you here. You're free to go any time you like."

"Not without what we came for! Mystique will kill us if we come back without him again!"

"But Remy has free will, too, and he chooses to stay with us. You can't take him by force."

"Wanna bet?" Fred looked ready for a fight, but Lance held him back.

"Not yet. Let's keep talking, and see what he's up to."

"That's what he **wants**! He's getting to you! Next you'll be saying we should fix their porch or something."

"Maybe we should. It wouldn't be fair for them to lose their security deposit because of us."

"Aw, man, you've totally gone soft!" Pietro exclaimed. "We can't trust you any more!"

"That's not true! I just . . . I just think there might be other ways to solve the problem besides smashing everything."

_This is promising_, Xavier thought to himself.

"Forget you, Alvers! I'm goin' in there!" Pietro started to rush the Professor, but Kitty tackled him from behind and sat on him until he gave up squirming.

With that, Lance and Xavier connected their minds and began to communicate directly. It wasn't very dramatic to look at; two individuals, their gazes locked, their bodies rigid in place. But inside both minds, something quite extraordinary was happening.

Lance found himself standing in the middle of a large, empty room.

The only other person there was Xavier, who was standing just a foot or two away.

**Standing.** Lance gaped in disbelief as he saw the Professor on his feet, without the aid of any support.

"How . . . ?"

"This is a mental construct," Xavier explained. "Not real in any sense you know, but very real in your mind thanks to my telepathic powers."

"What else can you do?"

"Anything you want. We're in your mind, too."

"How about some furniture in here?" Lance said, looking around at the featureless white room.

"What would you like?"

"Anything would be better than this! Some chairs, maybe—"

A pair of matching leather chairs appeared in opposite corners of the room.

"Did you do that," Lance asked, "or did I?"

Xavier smiled. "This was your doing."

"Wow, I have great taste. Okay, how about something on the walls?"

A series of framed movie posters appeared in sequence on the walls. The first one was a poster for _Deep Impact_; next to it was a stylized Mickey Mouse logo, followed by the _Snakes on a Plane_ poster. At the end of the line was a pair of production photos from _CSI._

"If you're finished decorating, perhaps we can get down to business," Xavier quipped dryly.

"Okay . . . what is it you want from me?"

"I'd like you to remember if you can, what happened that night you and your father argued and he threw you out."

"He's not my father," Lance corrected him. "Just another in a long line of foster dads who hated me."

"And why do you say that?"

"What is this, therapy?"

"In a sense."

"I talked to a lot of shrinks. None of them were any good."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not a psychologist, then."

"Well, what is the point of all this? Why do you care about me so much?"

"Lance, we are all--the entire community of mutants--in this together. We need to learn to trust one another if we are to work together, which, someday, may be necessary for our very survival."

Lance looked alarmed. "You think we're in some kind of danger?"

"Potentially," Xavier admitted.

"Mystique never told us about **that**."

"Mystique has . . . her own reasons for doing what she does. It's up to you to think for yourself and decide if what she wants is what you want."

Lance looked over his shoulder. On the big-screen TV that had appeared on the opposite wall, he watched the other Brotherhood members looking on in a kind of shocked fascination. Mystique was still unconscious, Rogue standing guard over her with her gloves off. It seemed the fight was over, and Lance's team had lost.

"What do I do, then?"

"That's up to you. We'd be happy to have you join us . . ."

"No. I . . . thanks, but I can't just leave them alone with that witch. Who knows what she might do to them? They need me."

Xavier sighed. "If that's how you feel, then you're free to go. All of you."

"What, just like that?"

"Yes."

"No more trying to psychoanalyze me?"

"Not if you don't want me to. However, if you need to talk at any time, you can come see me at the Institute."

Lance looked dubious. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. You don't have to do anything but talk, or just listen if you like."

"No lectures?"

"None at all."

Lance weighed Xavier's words carefully, trying to figure out what he should do next. What would happen if he trusted this man, his enemy? He had a hard time trusting anyone after all the trauma in his life. Parents left him, teachers yelled at him, the cops hassled him, and Mystique scared the crap out of him sometimes. Why should this be any different?

And yet . . .

"I don't know," Lance sighed. "I'll have to think about it."

"Take all the time you need. I'll be here when you're ready."

Lance blinked, and the room disappeared. He found himself standing in the cabin, surrounded by the terrified-looking Brotherhood.

"What did he **do **to you, Alvers?" Pietro demanded.

"Nothing," Lance said. "We just talked."

"I find that hard to believe," said Mystique.

Lance stepped between her and the other boys, who were slowly backing towards the remains of the door. "Don't do it," he said. "We've lost, let's just go quietly."

"I am **not **leaving without what we came for! Now do as I say and get that LeBeau boy or else I'll make you wish you were never born!"

_A little late for that, _Lance thought bitterly. "Mystique, we can't do that. Face it, they beat us to him fair and square. We--"

She charged at him and got in one good shot before Lance took her down with a blow to the back of the head. As the Brotherhood and the X-Men looked on, he picked her up and carried her to the car. "Let's go home, boys."

For a moment, the other Brotherhood mutants just stared at him like he'd grown a second head. Toad broke the silence by saying, "Well, bye, Brenda. I'll call ya." Then he and the other boys trudged off, piled into the Jeep, and drove away.

"Whu'd I miss?" came a sleepy drawl from the bedroom door. Remy was leaning on the door frame, looking like death warmed over. Rogue and Kitty went to him and helped him back to bed.

"Don't worry, sugah, everythin's fahne now," Rogue told him. "You just sleep now, and get better. We'll be around if you need anythin'." After a brief protest, Remy let them tuck him in.

Out in the living room, Xavier was thinking about Lance and his future when Jean asked him, "What is it, Professor?"

"I wonder . . . what will Lance do once he leaves the Brotherhood?"

"Leaves?" Jean was stunned by this news. "What did you say to him that could have made him want to leave the Brotherhood?"

Xavier explained, "I told him that he could talk to me any time he needed to. He wasn't as opposed to the idea as I'd expected. I think I'm going to reach him eventually, if I can gain his trust."

"Do you think you can do that?"

"I do. It may take some time, but I'm hopeful that in the end, he'll come around . . ."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mystique could not have been more furious once she came to, somewhere along Route 93 coming through Boston. "What do you think you're doing? Go back and get that boy right now!"

"No, Mystique," Lance insisted, "we're going home. Then you and I are gonna have a long talk."

"Excuse me?" She was staring at him like he'd gone insane. "We're going to **what**?"

"Things will have to change around here from now on," Lance told her, his eyes firmly on the road. "You won't be able to boss me or anyone else around much longer, you got me?"

"How dare you talk back to me like that, you little--"

"I'm sick of being pushed around by adults just because they think they know better than me," Lance snapped. The other boys were wisely keeping their mouths shut. "I'm not taking any more of your crap, Mystique, or anyone else's. You can't make us do your dirty work any longer . . ."

"What are you planning to do? Leave?" she said.

"I'll leave when and if I choose to. All I ask is a little respect. I'm almost an adult myself, you know; I turn eighteen next June."

"I know," she said. "I have your file."

"Then you know what I've had to put up with all my life. I'm tired of it. You told me if I joined you that things would be different, but so far it's just been the same old stuff. No more."

"**WHAT?!"**

"I'm sick of being pushed around by adults just because they think they know better than me," Lance snapped. "I'm not taking any more of your crap, Mystique, or anyone else's. You can't make us do your dirty work any longer . . ."

She stared at him, speechless, as Lance went on. "From now on, I'm going my own way. I won't let you or any other adults push me around—"

"And where are you going to live? Not under my roof, if you won't obey my rules!"

"Oh, please. Been there, done that. Why don't you just admit you like having us under your control?"

The other boys were sitting in the back seat, trying to make themselves as small as possible, or if that didn't work, to try and hide behind Fred. No way were they getting involved in this.

Not that either Lance or Mystique would have paid any attention if they had.

"You can't talk to me like this and then come back to my house like nothing happened!"

"I'll only be in your house until I save up enough to leave. I'm looking for a job first thing in the morning."

"What did Xavier do to you? You've always been loyal to me!"

"Only because I didn't care enough to turn you down. I didn't know I had other choices."

"You think you do, but how far do you think you'd get if you took off now?" She glared at him. "I did you a favor, bringing you here! What kind of a future did you have, bouncing from foster home to foster home? I made you a part of something, and now you're turning your back on me!"

"Maybe I don't like what I'm a part of any more. Maybe I'd rather take my chances somewhere else."

"If you go to him—"

"I didn't say I was."

Todd couldn't keep quiet any longer. "You're not leavin' us, yo! I won't let you!"

Lance pulled the car over and killed the engine. He turned around to stare at the three very frightened faces in the back seat.

"Guys, I . . ."

"You can't just walk out on us!" Blob shouted at him. "What happens to us when you're gone?"

Lance realized that he had thought this exact thing when he was in Xavier's mind-construct. He couldn't just abandon the other boys. What if Mystique took out her anger at him on them? He couldn't let that happen. Yes, change would have to come, but not today. Maybe over time . . .

Suddenly he took the next exit and got back on the highway in the other direction.

"What are you doing?" Mystique demanded.

"We've got to go back," Lance told her. "There's something we have to do. You can come with us, or we can let you off here."

"It's almost midnight! We won't be there till two in the morning! You can't do this!"

"Do what?" Toad asked.

"He's going back to fix up the cottage," Pietro said. "Which I think is a stupid idea."

"Whoa," said Blob. "We break a lot of stuff, but we never fix it."

"Then this'll be a first." Lance saw a sign for a motel and pulled over. "Anyone who wants out, now's the time."

Mystique got out and angrily slammed the door. "When you come back for me," she said, "we're going to have a long talk."

"As long as it's both of us talking," Lance said. "Anyone else getting out?"

Todd looked like he wanted to get out, but then he remembered where they were going, and he sat back. "Wake me when we get there," he said, closing his eyes.

"Pietro?" Lance said.

"I said it's a stupid idea. I didn't say I wasn't going," the pale boy smirked. "You need my help. You'll never get it done without me."

"Freddy?"

"Just don't do that again, okay? Don't yell at her like that!"

"Well . . . I dunno. I'll try not to."

They got back on the highway, heading north, and were there by one-thirty, thanks to the light traffic. They checked back into the motel and set the alarm early.

"The lumber yard doesn't open till nine," Pietro said.

"We'll just have to work with what we have for the first hour or so. I hope they have power tools at the cottage."

"Can we go on the water slides after?" Toad asked.

Lance threw a pillow at him. "You and your water slides! Go to sleep."

No, he couldn't leave them. They were the closest thing to a family he'd ever had. Even Mystique was better than some of the foster moms he'd had.

And she did have a point. In another year he would have aged out of the system, and been on his own. At least she was willing to keep him around for a while.

He decided to think about it later. Things would change, but maybe not all at once.

XXXXXXXXXX

Rogue woke up to a pounding, grinding, crashing noise. "What in the--?"

She carefully climbed over Kitty, leaned on the edge of the bed, and peered out the window. Then she did a double take.

"Am Ah still dreamin'?"

"What?" Kitty stretched and sat up, "Wha' izzit?"

"The Brotherhood," Rogue said, stunned. "They're . . . fixin' the porch."

"WHAT?" Kitty pushed past her roommate and opened the window. It didn't exactly open, but she leaned against the screen and shouted, "What are you jerks doing out there? Don't you know what time it is?"

"Kitty, they're helping!" Rogue said. "Ah don't know why, but they are! Let them work!"

Kitty looked at her like she was insane. "We're on vacation! We came up here for the peace and quiet, and now those creeps have ruined it all! Oh, I'm gonna get them--" She got up, phased through the door, and headed for the first floor, muttering threats all the way.

Rogue pondered going back to bed, decided she'd never get back to sleep with all this racket going on, and went down to see what she could do. As she descended the stairs, she saw Remy on the couch, pressing a pillow over his ears in an effort to block out the din. He looked a little better today than he had the day before. "How are ya, sugar?"

Remy muttered something in French that sounded nasty.

"Yeah, I'll tell them to knock it off. Shouldn't be makin' that much noise this early in the morning. What time is it, anyway?"

Remy shifted and looked up at the kitchen clock. "Six-thirty."

"**What**?"

The sounds of hammering and sawing cut out abruptly, to be replaced by Kitty's angry voice.

"--don't know what you jerks are thinking, waking us up at the crack of dawn! Are you **crazy**?"

"We just wanted to make it right," Lance said. "We broke it, we should fix it."

"Yeah! Later in the day, maybe! Not when everyone's trying to sleep! Go have breakfast or something and come back around nine."

"But we're here now," Todd pointed out. "Why waste time, yo?"

"Yeah, I'm sure we've got some waffles in the freezer!" Pietro pointed out.

"Excuse me?" Scott demanded. "**We've **got waffles? I don't see any of your names on the rental agreement!"

"Can't you spare a couple of frozen breakfast products for the hungry workers?"

"You're not working! You're standing around arguing! The only one I see working is Blob!"

Fred put down the load of lumber he was carrying and looked up at the sound of his name. "Huh? What?"

"We're going out for breakfast," Lance said. "Someone doesn't like to share!"

"Aw, he's just grumpy cause we woke him up," Toad said. "Race ya to the Jeep!"

Lance turned around reluctantly and left the job unfinished, for now. But Fred didn't seem to mind having to do the heavy lifting, even if it meant he'd be alone for most of the time.

Scott was glad to see them go . . . but it wasn't like the Brotherhood to go back and fix something after they broke it. This was a definite change in the status quo . . . but for good, or bad?

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"It's gone quiet now," Remy said, when Rogue came in to check on him a few minutes later.

"Yeah, the fireworks are over. For now, anyway." She straightened his pillows and set a glass of juice down on the bedside table. "How are you feelin' right now, sugar?"

"Bettah, Ah think." His accent was making a comeback. "What about you?"

Rogue sighed. "I'll never get back to sleep now, even with them gone. Wonder why they came back to fix our porch, when it was them that broke it in the first place?"

"Maybe they just want to make up for what they done."

"The Brotherhood? They smash first and ask questions later! Trust me, Ah lived with those guys for a while. Conscientious, they ain't."

"People change."

"We'll see." She looked out the window at the pile of lumber and the remains of the shattered porch. "Ah hope they get it done before we have to leave, otherwise the folks who own this place won't ask us back. They might even want us to leave a few days early."

"I hope not," Remy said, struggling to sit up.

"Not so fast there, sugar. Don't strain yourself, or you might make yourself worse. Just take it slow and easy till you're better."

"You may be right there, _chere_," Remy said. "Forget Canada, Remy like it here."

For now, at least, he had found a home.


End file.
